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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124315">Welcome Disturbances</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon'>crookedspoon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Exchange Fics [80]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Compilation of Final Fantasy VII</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blow Jobs, Community: rarepair100, Dark Nation is a good boy, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Rufus Shinra, Shipoween 2020, if fearsome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 18:42:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,400</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27124315</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedspoon/pseuds/crookedspoon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Rufus did not expect a visitor tonight, but that doesn't mean he's going to slam the door in his face.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sephiroth/Rufus Shinra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Exchange Fics [80]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/51139</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Shipoween 2020 - The Halloween Ship Exchange!</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Welcome Disturbances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neurotoxia/gifts">Neurotoxia</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kinktober 2020 - Day 31: Free day. Power Play.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's Dark Nation who senses the disturbance first. One moment he's lying propped against Rufus on the sofa, letting his ears be scritched, his tentacle giving the occasional twitch, the next his ears prick up and his head lifts from his paws, lips drawn back, teeth showing.</p><p>He makes no sound, but springs to his feet and off the sofa. Rufus closes the book he was reading. Although Dark Nation is still young and excitable, he's not <em>jumpy </em>by any means.</p><p>Picking up his shotgun, he approaches the door with a healthy dose of skepticism – and not a little intrigue. No one but top-ranking Shinra officials know about this place and who is currently the sole occupant of it. His father would not have told anyone about the location in general or Rufus's whereabouts in particular because frankly, his father has no use for him. The title of vice-president he has recently acquired over other such contenders as that Deusericus character is largely symbolic. He's not even invited to ribbon-cutting ceremonies of new reactors, as though anyone but big business investors and maybe the local populace cared about them at all. Not much chance of Rufus becoming the new face of the company at those events, as his father no doubt fears. (Which is somewhat of a pity, because Rufus thinks Shinra detractors should know what the man next in line looks like, so they can go after him.) He has no illusions that he got the job for any other reason than to get him out of the way for a while, kind of like giving candy to a baby to stop it from squalling. A tad insulting, true, but if it netted him what had been dangled before him as the ultimate golden carrot from the time he was five, he'd take it and thank his father, too. Though only where others were close enough to hear.</p><p>He props the shotgun against the wall next to the door. There's no peephole to look through or camera facing the entryway, which Rufus considers criminal negligence and which also means that he'll have to see for himself who's out there if he wants to satisfy his curiosity. He does so hope it's kidnappers – it would have to be several. One person alone would have no chance of carrying him off, even if Dark Nation weren't there. It's been years since the last time that happened against his will, mostly because his father had never shown any great cooperation at paying his ransom, which is to say kidnappers never saw a single gil for their trouble. If they'd been smart about it, his father would have likely paid them to <em>keep </em>Rufus instead of giving him back, but to both of their great shame, no anti-Shinra group has ever figured that one out. Still, it would be a welcome change of pace to be whisked away again.</p><p>"Easy," he tells Dark Nation and gestures to him to settle behind him, outside of potential attackers' direct line of sight. </p><p>Without caring for his safety, he rips open the door, hoping to startle whoever is standing outside. They do not give him the satisfaction of so much as blinking in surprise. That would have been disappointing in itself if his whole body hadn't gone rigid upon espying the person in front of him.</p><p>In a perfect world, he would have been able to voice a disaffected "Oh, it's you," step back to invite the newcomer in, and close the door behind them without batting an eyelash. As it is, however, he finds that his mouth no longer works, as though his teeth had fused together. Thankfully, a tightly clenching jaw is not one that falls open, so he dodged a bullet there.</p><p>Still, he's unresponsive for a few moments too long. At least he's not the only one.</p><p>"Sometimes I wonder why you bother wearing anything at all," he manages at last, mentally patting himself on the back for the unconcerned dryness of his tone. To be fair, his mouth <em>is </em>dry, but that's another matter.</p><p>"Would you rather I got arrested for public indecency on the way over?" Sephiroth retorts.</p><p>Heat surges through Rufus like through an iron poker left too long in the fire. He rakes his eyes over Sephiroth, takes stock of the ridiculous blue cap used to conceal his too-recognisable hair that makes him look like a postal worker, of the wisps of silver that have escaped from their confinement and are curving like hooks toward the collar that leaves his pale throat exposed, of his rolled-up sleeves that reveal his strong forearms, and the little package he's casually propping against his hip. </p><p>He allows himself a moment longer to appreciate how Sephiroth's tight black slacks cling to his thighs like a second skin, and that's where his mind stutters to a halt. The button-up that is primly tucked into his trousers is decidedly <em>not </em>buttoned up, granting Rufus an exclusive view of a chest so flawless it never fails to make him light-headed. The exquisite curves of his clavicles alone are enough for Rufus to beg mercy.</p><p>"Wouldn't that make a headline?" he rejoins somewhat belatedly. "'General Sephiroth arrested for exposing himself in public.' I'm sure your fans would <em>love </em>to read about that, especially if photographs are included."</p><p>"They would at that, unless you snap up the entire publication first, to have exclusive access."</p><p>Sephiroth leans against the doorway, his arm angled above his head so that his bangle slips down from his wrist. The inlaid materia glow in the failing evening light as though alive, an inferno and a snowstorm tamed inside a sphere of glass. </p><p>Rufus taps his chin thoughtfully. "I <em>might </em>be inclined to buy the magazine, though whether to halt its publication or to hike up the price remains to be seen. People are used to paywalls these days. It could be lucrative."</p><p>"Ever the businessman." Sephiroth's lips curve into a secretive smile. Then he asks: "Are you going to invite me in?"</p><p>"What have you got there?" </p><p>"The reason why I'm here in the first place." He relinquishes the package he's been carrying into Rufus's waiting hands.</p><p>"What is it?" he asks as he lifts it up, studying it from all sides. It's a plain cardboard box, taped shut, with only his given name on it, written in overly correct primary school letters rickety either from disuse or from the strain of disguising one's regular handwriting. No family name, no return address.</p><p>"Something a mutual friend of ours asked me to deliver. I wasn't enlightened as to the contents."</p><p>"A mutual friend." Rufus pins Sephiroth's gaze with his own, and tries not to get distracted by how chillingly gorgeous his eyes are when they dilate. Is that a joke of some sort, or a puzzle? They don't have any friends in common. "Have you had it scanned for explosives?"</p><p>A huff of laughter. "You're refreshingly paranoid, as usual."</p><p>"Poison?"</p><p>Abandoning his inspection, he turns around and places the package on the edge of the coffee table, to be dealt with later. Dark Nation pads over to scent it, but loses interest almost at once. So it <em>is </em>most likely safe.</p><p>"You have a new puppy," Sephiroth observes, as he follows Rufus inside and closes the door behind them. </p><p>Few people would identify Dark Nation as a <em>puppy, </em>given his sheer size, but Sephiroth has spent enough of his life in the vicinity of lab-grown monsters to know their characteristics on sight. He is, for all intents and purposes, one such monster himself. With more agency, perhaps, but a monster nonetheless, to hear him tell it. Rufus, for his part, dismisses such angst. If it were justifiable, well, then perhaps Rufus himself ought to count himself within that category as well. He's not so unadulterated himself.</p><p>Monster or no monster, he considers the time spent on small talk more than adequate to move on to more important matters, such as what he's been meaning to do ever since he's laid eyes on Sephiroth: he grabs him by the shirtfront and crushes their lips together.</p><p>It's familiarity that has Sephiroth reaching for him in the same instant, blind, instinctual, guided by a thirst they have gone too long without quenching. Sephiroth's hands are restless and intent, holding his neck, his cheeks, grasping the fine hair at the back of his head, then curling into his light sweater as though prepared to rip it to shreds.</p><p>Rufus would not stop him if he were to do it. There is something fundamentally self-indulgent about granting someone the very thing they're craving like the cure to an ache, something he himself already has access to: while Sephiroth's fingers are scrabbling for every sliver of skin within reach, his own imprint themselves on Sephiroth's ribs, his chest, his shoulders – or perhaps Sephiroth's body imprints itself on Rufus's palms, a brand in reverse, through the blazing heat it gives off like so much mako radiation. Sephiroth deserves reciprocity. Rufus, however, is not a kind enough man to offer it of his own volition. If he does, it will have nothing to do with kindness and everything to do with greed.</p><p>How could it not be when Sephiroth kisses him as though his naked hunger would not be satisfied until Rufus is rendered down to nothing? He feels himself be consumed with every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, every desperate little noise that slips out between one laboured breath and the next. It's easy to forget himself like this, easy to get lost in the pulse thrumming through and against his fingertips, like a dance of call and response, each in counterpoint to an arrangement only they could hear.</p><p>It urges them farther into the room, swaying drunkenly, in search of something to back against, but Rufus for one is too preoccupied with Sephiroth's belt to turn around and look for that something. Once it comes apart in his hands, he tosses it carelessly to the side. It clatters onto the coffee table, next to the package Sephiroth brought in. </p><p>Rufus sucks in a breath as Sephiroth's hands slide down his spine, grasping and clawing at the skin beneath his sweater, and he sucks in another, sharper breath as Sephiroth's hands settle squarely on his ass. Sephiroth's fingers dig in and <em>lift </em>Rufus off the floor as though he were made out of nothing more than papier mâché.</p><p><em>Fuck. </em>Rufus moans. Almost nothing gets him hot faster than a casual reminder of Sephiroth's inhuman strength. For once, Sephiroth is not even teasing him with it on purpose, the way he usually does when he carries him off, thrown over his shoulder like a cheap rug or a bag of rice, to get out of an argument faster. He's just as lost in his desire as Rufus is.</p><p>Rufus moans again as his back connects with the upholstery of his armchair. Sephiroth is leaning over him, arms on either side of his head, barring his gaze from straying away from his own. The brim of his cap has skewed upward, pointing at an angle, and strands of hair have escaped to drape over each shoulder and frame Sephiroth's face. Despite his getup, there's nothing ludicrous about him now, only intent. His dilated pupils resemble a cat's rather than a snake's, as they usually do, yet a part of Rufus still feels like a rabbit trapped beneath them.</p><p>Perhaps it's that tiny spike of fear that does it. Over the roaring of his blood in his ears, Rufus suddenly makes out growling – from beside him, not in front of him. He has just enough time to grasp Dark Nation's chains as he pounces at Sephiroth. Not that it would have done any good. Dark Nation would have just ripped him from his seat if Sephiroth had not caught his paws at the last moment.</p><p>Dark Nation is a ghastly sight: fully as tall as Sephiroth, but bigger in every way, his tentacle lashing from side to side, his long teeth bared and ready to snap. None of this seems to faze Sephiroth, however, who is almost casually holding this two hundred and fifty-pound beast at bay, waiting for it to settle.</p><p>With a shrill whistle, Rufus signals Dark Nation to stand down. Relief floods him when he does. Until then, Rufus had not noticed how uncertain he had been that Dark Nation might not listen. He is not yet fully trained, which makes him a dangerous liability as much as an asset, but the last thing he needs right now is for his guard dog to tear off Sephiroth's face. It's so difficult to find good cleaning personnel out here.</p><p>"Guess I should have introduced you two first," he says as he collapses against the armchair and wipes his mouth with his thumb. <em>"Attention, SOLDIER."</em></p><p>The beauty of Sephiroth is that he wastes no time in following the command, no matter how wary or bewildered he might have been by Dark Nation's interference. He stands rigid as a monument, his arms straight by his sides and his chin held high, eyes staring fixedly into the middle distance. With all but a few wild locks of his hair hidden beneath a bulging cap, his cheeks flushed and his shirt rumpled, he looks more like a youth caught tousling in the hay and less like the cunning general he is. It's nothing but surface, of course. There is no man more dangerous than Sephiroth. Pretty wrapping paper concealing a razorblade.</p><p>Rufus smiles his approval and motions his dog over.</p><p>"Take your hat off," he tells Sephiroth.</p><p>Without missing a beat, Sephiroth reaches up smoothly, the gesture more elaborate than his stiff-backed posture should have allowed for, and slides off the cap. His hair unspools like a movie reel from his high ponytail. Sephiroth removes his hair tie next and shakes out his silver mane as though they were on the set of some shampoo ad, before he lets his arms drop back meekly to his sides. Rufus's mouth is instantly dry, and his eyes are in danger of glazing over. Before Sephiroth can see the imbecilic look on his face, Rufus turns toward Dark Nation instead. </p><p>"Dark Nation, this is Sephiroth," he says to him, ruffling his coat. "He is not to be touched." </p><p>Dark Nation cocks his head as though eyeing Sephiroth critically. Then he snorts, as though in disapprobation of Rufus's choice of mate, and pads forward to snuffle at Sephiroth's ankles. Rufus arches one eyebrow, watching his dog scent Sephiroth from all angles. Sephiroth lets it happen as stoically as ever. Rufus rises to his feet, leisurely, as though he had not just been making out with Sephiroth and wanted nothing more than to pick up where they left off.</p><p>"Sephiroth—Dark Nation," he says, clasping his hands at the small of his back as he circles Sephiroth in measured steps. They will both have to imagine the heavy tread of boots that would have added effect, but that his slippers cannot replicate. "You're familiar with the attack dogs the military uses. This one was specifically bred for me. He has not completed all of his training yet and, quite frankly, I'm surprised he didn't just bite your face off."</p><p>As if he wanted to correct this oversight, Dark Nation walks his front paws up the length of Sephiroth's chest until they're eye to eye again. This time, he keeps his teeth in check, however, and his tentacle is undulating like a dancing cobra. What he does do is shove his nose against Sephiroth's jaw. Then he follows up with something unexpected neither of them could have foreseen: he licks Sephiroth's cheek. This oversized hellhound licks the usually so unruffled general's cheek. And quite enthusiastically, at that.</p><p>"I guess he likes you," Rufus says, struggling to keep his mirth under control.</p><p>Throughout this procedure, Sephiroth has managed to stay perfectly unmoving, never taking his eyes off his fixed point, never clenching his jaw, or showing any kind of reaction, as Dark Nation drags his tongue over Sephiroth's face like he were some sort of treat. Which Sephiroth is, to be sure, but Rufus didn't think Dark Nation would appreciate him as much as he himself does.</p><p>Rufus whistles softly. Dark Nation's head twists around. The savage structure of his face makes him look angry at having been disturbed. Well, Rufus can relate. He didn't appreciate the interruption either. When Rufus nods toward the door, Dark Nation pushes off Sephiroth and trots out of the room, tentacle bouncing with every step.</p><p>Rufus follows and closes the door behind him.</p><p>"So," he says, turning back to Sephiroth. "Where were we?"</p><p>Sephiroth remains still as a statue, even as Rufus walks back up to him and plucks the cap and hair tie from him. They join Sephiroth's belt in an already-forgotten pile and Rufus, whose attention has never left Sephiroth for a second, presses close. Gently, he brushes Sephiroth's hair back over his shoulder and his shirt with it, breathing in the scent of lavender and clean sweat. His mouth hovers above his neck – the side that's currently not covered in dog drool – as his fingers run down Sephiroth's shirt front to pop the few buttons that Sephiroth had bothered to do up.</p><p>Satisfied with Sephiroth's current state of undress, Rufus lowers his lips to Sephiroth's neck and <em>bites. </em>The jolt that goes through Sephiroth extends through him, too. Sephiroth's hands twitch, and Rufus would almost have expected him to grab his waist, his arms, the back of his head, but he doesn't. His arms stay obediently at his sides, though not quite as motionless as before. They vibrate now and again as Sephiroth tries to keep his hands from clenching.</p><p>Sephiroth's self-discipline never fails to give Rufus a mad rush. Ineptly, he struggles with Sephiroth's trouser button as he sinks his teeth into the meat below his collarbone. Sephiroth grunts, and it's all the break in composure Sephiroth allows himself.</p><p>Once Rufus has wrestled open Sephiroth's fly, he tugs the shirt out of his trousers and lets his hands map out the smooth skin of his chest. Not a single scar tarnishes its flawlessness, no matter how often he gets sliced or stabbed or skewered. Rufus would know: he gave him quite a few cuts himself. His healing powers are quite extraordinary, much like the rest of him. Every welt, every scratch is gone within hours, depending on its severity. Which is not to say that Sephiroth feels none of the pain that is inflicted upon him. He just experiences it more fleetingly.</p><p>Rufus rakes his fingernails down Sephiroth's front just to feel his abs contract. He barely even makes a sound, just pushes out a breath.</p><p>As much as Rufus enjoys breaking Sephiroth apart layer by layer, he has no patience for that now. He sinks back down onto the armchair, tugging Sephiroth closer until his shins rest against the front rail.</p><p>"Stand easy, SOLDIER."</p><p>Like a mechanism in a clockwork, Sephiroth slides into a more relaxed stance, feet hip-width apart and hands clasped behind his back. Rufus breathes out a quiet snort. Sephiroth's willingness to play along with whatever Rufus throws his way turns him on beyond measure.</p><p>At least he's not the only one so afflicted. Sephiroth's briefs are barely able to contain his cock anymore, standing out thick and full against what little fabric still covers it.</p><p>Fighting the urge to go down on him immediately, Rufus smooths his palms over Sephiroth's glorious thighs and squeezes his hips, just once. Then he pushes his tight trousers down over his ass, enough to have a better angle at his cock.</p><p>Sephiroth exhales audibly as Rufus cups him through his briefs, massaging the length. The thin fabric does little to dampen how scorchingly hot it is. Rufus might burn himself if he's not careful.</p><p>Still, he risks it. Combing his hair out his face, Rufus leans forward and puts his mouth over the base of Sephiroth's cock. No longer exerting himself to keep his reactions in check, Sephiroth groans as Rufus sucks kisses from root to tip and Rufus could come from the unadulterated pleasure in his voice alone.</p><p>Even better, Sephiroth has abandoned his commitment to staring straight ahead and is instead staring straight at Rufus. His normally so chilling green eyes have thawed to the warm jewel tones of the Costa del Sol sea. Rufus is transfixed. It takes him a moment to remember what he was about.</p><p>With his fingers hooked over the elastic waistband of Sephiroth's briefs, he peels out his erection carefully. </p><p>Sephiroth's nostrils flare. His tongue flicks out to moisten his lips. Then his jaw tightens again, making the tendons in his neck stand out. It's all the go-ahead that Rufus needs. Breathing out harshly, he sucks the tip of Sephiroth's cock into his mouth. It's already wet with pre-come that's dribbling from the slit and Rufus laps it up, slowly, deliberately, with a patience that belies their urgency from before. </p><p>There's no telling whether or not Sephiroth enjoys the excruciating pace or whether he'd prefer Rufus to speed it up. His expression is closed off in that regard, although his eyes are boring down on Rufus with an intensity that would make a lesser man think he's being graded, if it weren't for the raw want in Sephiroth's eyes. It borders on a miracle that he is still holding on, instead of throwing himself at Rufus because he looks about wound up enough to spring.</p><p>Not that Rufus lets himself be deterred by any of it. As long as Sephiroth doesn't intervene, he sticks to the pace he's set, only gradually going faster and taking more of Sephiroth into his mouth with every downward movement. There's something hypnotic about it, something deeply relaxing that shuts out everything that is not his pleasantly tingling face and Sephiroth's cock. It's pulsing against his lips, their hearts now beating in lockstep as though Sephiroth had willed his own to follow Rufus's lead.</p><p>It doesn't take long for them to fall out of sync again, however. His own heartbeat picks up when Sephiroth finally, finally touches him. He scrubs his fingers through Rufus's hair and rests his palms atop of head – not pushing or guiding, but simply brushing his thumbs over Rufus's slick temples. </p><p>He's hot, almost uncomfortably so. His clothes are glued to his skin and the need to strip them off only increases. But he doesn't want to stop. Not now. Not when he's brought Sephiroth this close. Even so, he has to do something. Sephiroth could keep this up indefinitely if he wanted to. Rufus cannot.</p><p>Grasping Sephiroth's hips with both hands, Rufus bobs his head lower, faster, until all he hears is his own mouth at work and Sephiroth's ragged breathing above him.</p><p>And still Sephiroth does not break, does not fuck his face with abandon, although the occasional involuntary thrust is more than enough for Rufus to take pleasure in. Sephiroth's body is a lot more honest about what it needs than the man himself. When he's close, his cock begins to spasm, his thighs to tremble, his abs to twitch.</p><p>He comes with a deep-seated groan, eyes and lips compressed, and his spine curved over Rufus. Panting just as heavily as Sephiroth does, Rufus swallows his release that is salty and thick and somewhat fizzy on his tongue – a curious side effect of the mako.</p><p>Sephiroth's hands rest against Rufus's neck for a while as he comes back to himself, idly stroking Rufus's cheek. His cock only softens somewhat in his mouth. Rufus will have to work harder next time.</p><p>Once Sephiroth straightens above him, Rufus lets himself slouch back against his armchair, his legs spread wide and one knee hooked over an armrest. It's not half as comfortable as he might have hoped, but still it's better than the alternative. His own cock is throbbing painfully in his now too-tight trousers and sitting upright is no longer an option.</p><p>Despite that, he says rather lightly: "I think you should go wash the dog slobber off your face. Who knows what kind of toxins R&amp;D have added to Dark Nation that I don't know about."</p><p>Sephiroth laughs, but lets his eyes stray low for a moment, as if considering whether his next plan of action should be implemented at this very point in time or not.</p><p>"You're probably right," he finally concedes. </p><p>Rufus just smiles lazily and wipes his mouth with the back of hand as he watches Sephiroth tuck himself back in. He gives him directions to the bathroom ("this will be your test to see if Dark Nation still tolerates you when I'm not around to hold him back"), then sinks deeper into his seat, breathing steadily and squeezing himself through his trousers, trying to alleviate some of the pounding ache between his thighs.</p><p>Sephiroth appears somewhat looser than before, though not entirely relaxed. Not that Sephiroth has ever relaxed entirely as long as Rufus has known him. Which is a damn long time. It's not his way. The closest he's ever come to it is – paradoxically, or perhaps not – in the midst of battle. Or – relatably – in Rufus's bed, at the end of a long night spent love-making.</p><p>He wonders if Sephiroth has come to stay the night, or if not, how Rufus can best entice him to. With the war still raging, Sephiroth is constantly being pulled from the front to whatever nonsense Heidegger has him take care of. In nine cases out of ten, it's a total waste of Sephiroth's talents, but Rufus is not one to complain, since it means they get to see each other more often.</p><p>He himself has no pressing matters to attend to – except that of his very pressing need for release, which he is sure Sephiroth will be more than happy to help him with. And if Sephiroth decides to stay the night, Rufus will definitely do everything in his power to ensure Sephiroth unwinds as much as possible before he has to leave again.</p><p>Ever the schemer, Rufus already has some fun ideas about where to start. All Sephiroth has to do is pick one.</p>
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